


Ut Obliviscatur

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, It's Slughorn thinking back on Tom Riddle, Possibly Unrequited Love, Reflection, Slughorn is kind of creepy, depending on how you look at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He used to be oh so charming. And beautiful.</p><p>Time goes by, and the seasons change. His face changed - everything about him changed. But the memory lived on, his once beautiful face preserved in the minds of those who know better than to forget it.</p><p>It might be wiser to forget it. Men do such strange things for a pretty face."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ut Obliviscatur

**Author's Note:**

> Ut Obliviscatur - To Forget (Latin) [According to google translate]

He used to be oh so charming. And beautiful.

Time goes by, and the seasons change. His face changed - everything about him changed. But the memory lived on, his once beautiful face preserved in the minds of those who know better than to forget it.

It might be wiser to forget it. Men do such strange things for a pretty face.

It’s not very pretty now, but it once was. An eternal beauty. The youth and vitality promised by such a face is still there, just different, and well-hidden. 

It was so easy to blur out the current reality and simply focus on what once was. 

It was how he went by. Dallying about his days, and socializing with peers and past students. He would conveniently not remember that he was a doddering old man, who most put up with simply because of a shared connection so many years ago. Out of guilt. He would think of the times when he was the one looked up to and admired.

Oh, to be Professor and Head of House is so admirable.

Why did he ever leave?

Yes. Albus. And the memory of the once beautiful face that would forever haunt him. He had been so charming, that boy. So, so charming. A favor here or there couldn’t possibly hurt anything. He had been in an institution of learning, and curiosity was only to be encouraged, especially in so bright a student.

But, as they say, curiosity killed the cat. 

And Horace Slughorn had indirectly sentenced wizardkind to a horror beyond his imaginations.

Tom Riddle really was such a charming young man.

A boy who would never leave his memory, yet could never be mentioned in respectable company. Or any company, for that matter. 

The arrival of Lord Voldemort had been so startling, that hardly anyone dared to question where he came from. The darkest of dark wizards he was, and their focus was on keeping themselves and their families safe.

Not a single person gave any thought to the handsome Tom Riddle, who everyone knew at Hogwarts, and no one had heard from ever since. 

Everyone, that is, except Albus Dumbledore and himself.

No one wanted to think back to their joyful days of schooling and realize they might have spent seven years sleeping in the same room as the person who killed their wife. 

Tom used to be so charismatic. He could enter a room and instantly have the attention of everyone in it, without saying a single word. He could also go anywhere unnoticed, if he so desired.

Perhaps he still had those skills. He probably did. He was beautiful no longer, and there had to be something other than fear that drew them in and made them stay there.

The followers. Fear is wonderful motivation, but it doesn’t have people begging to pledge themselves to you. It keeps them in line, but you can easily go too far, and have them scurrying from you at the first window of opportunity.

Some aspect of that beauty must have remained. 

At least that’s what he told himself, as he watched his students slowly drift further and further away from him. Some of them he could see from the start. Tom had always had a group following him, and it only made sense that the sons would follow in their father’s footsteps. 

And he had had such high hopes for Lucius, too.

He supposed that the charm could ensnare even the most superficial of people.

Despite the destruction that surrounded him, despite the death tolls, and even despite the harsh political climate making it difficult from him to maintain his connections, a part of Horace Slughorn still cared for Lord Voldemort. Indirectly, of course. Care for what he once was, and not what he currently is.

Isn’t it funny, how that works?

And now he’s back at Hogwarts again. Such a joy! With the Boy-Who-Lived to add to his collection, no less.

There was something eerie about Harry Potter.

He wasn’t beautiful, nor was he particularly charming. But there was still something. It might have been the shared history, but whenever he looked into Lily Evan’s eyes behind James Potter’s glasses, he couldn’t help but think of a beautiful boy who walked the same halls so many years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I'm not sure what sparked this, but I just kind of went with it!


End file.
